The Summer Solstice.

Week 25: A story set at the summer solstice. 

Disclaimer: My knowledge of this day is very limited. I’ve written it from a Wiccan’s point of view. I did a project on Wicca in my first year of university and found it so intriguing, I also had a friend who followed the religion. But that’s where my knowledge ends. I’m sorry if I’ve said anything incorrect/offensive. 

The time was coming. The time for magic, spirituality and faith, the time for fire and the truth, the time for cleansing, to remove the world’s evils and bring happiness. Litha, the Summer Solstice was upon them.

Dawn had never been to one of these festivals. Her parents had kept this part of their lives hidden for reasons that she only recently discovered. There were those in the land that did not approve of Wiccans and introducing their child to this beautiful, but feared religion (by those ignorant and blind to the truth), would only be causing more harm. Wicca is not an evil; it is not a demonic religion. It is a natural, kind and light spiritual experience, one that people should not feel shame or fear for following.

Dawn’s parents were just doing their job as parents, to protect their eighteen year old daughter. They hoped the day would come where such things would not need to be hidden.

It was the Midsummer Day, full of sweet smelling herbs, summer flowers and fruits, the whole town were gathered by campfires at twilight, ready to bless the day. Fires burnt, to keep disease and misfortune at bay, and as the evening drew closer, celebrations were at hand.

There was music, played on soft strings and songs floated in the air. People danced around the fire and watched the night’s sky, the stars shone and the sun God went to sleep, happy.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” someone asked Dawn, a young gentleman about two years older than her. He had skin the colour of a burning sunset, a soft brown, like if she touched his cheek, it would feel like silk. His eyes danced in the fire’s glow, bright and wide, curious.

“Yeah,” Dawn nodded, smiling at him. She extended her hand to him and said, “I’m Dawn.”

“Avan,” he replied, “nice to meet you.”

Dawn felt something wash over her – something warm and gentle. She was home.

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